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With Kir at my side, there was no way I’d not get the promotion. He was a good guy, the best I’d ever met. Honestly, it was amazing that he’d taken care of my sister, and I wouldn’t say no to him with that. The bills never ended.
But I knew better than to depend on him forever. Kir was a short-term solution, and I needed to be smart. So, I would get the promotion and work six months and, if my life was stable, change jobs then.
We finished our wine and flan, and I gazed at Kir one final time as he paid the bill. He was a true gentleman and handsome and smart. I doubted I’d ever meet anyone like him. He was one of a kind. For however long our ruse lasted, I was lucky he was with me.
As we stepped onto the sidewalk, he had his arm gently on my back. My heart stirred, and I asked, “Ready to go meet my friends as my boyfriend?”
His eyes widened. “Already?”
So far, I wasn’t being a very good partner in anything. I nodded and looped my arm with his. “They don’t count exactly, but they don’t know anything about our discussion… and if Hope doesn’t know first, Charlie will be suspicious.”
His lips curved higher. “True. I work with your friend, and Charlie’s my brother.”
I took another huge whiff of air. He made the cement and car fumes smell like the woods. “So, it’s a good test to see if people buy… us.”
His driver pulled to the front. “The limo is here.”
My heart thumped. He must never do anything without staff. I tugged his arm. “Can we walk? It’s not too far, and we need to talk without people hearing.”
He spoke to the driver then offered his arm. “Let’s go, then.”
Walking as a couple down the street seemed strangely normal. I glanced around. “So, kissing on the cheeks is your customary greeting, but we need to promise to be friends when this is done, so let’s not do too much.”
He stiffened his spine. “I will only kiss you in public, unless you want me to kiss you in other places.”
I raised my eyebrows. A part of me wanted to kiss him right then and there and find out for sure what he tasted like. I gazed at his lips. “Me, huh?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah.”
I took a deep breath and imagined the moment, at either my party or his family wedding, when I would walk into his arms and his lips would meet mine. At some point, I would find the answer to my fantasy-life questions. I let out a sigh. “We’ll probably have to kiss in front of people and be convincing.”
He pressed my hand. “I promise you that you’re the only woman I’ve wanted to kiss in a long while.”
My heart leapt as if he was being honest and wasn’t just flattering me. I shook my head. “That can’t be true, but I like that you’re in character already.”
As we turned the corner, he said, “I’m not. You’re not a gold digger, and in my world, that’s rarer than panning for gold on a beach.”
I laughed. If he’d been just another analyst or even a supervisor or business partner of my friend, I’d have maybe tried harder for us to be more. Or at least I would have shut up because babbling wasn’t going to convince anyone of anything.
I shrugged. “I’ve never panned for gold, but I’ll take your word for it. And it’s true. While I appreciate you helping my sister more than you’ll ever know, the reason I spilled my guts to you was because your money makes me nervous.”
His gaze narrowed. “Why?”
Adrenaline rushed through my veins, but I had nothing to hide. “Because I’m not sure I’d be anything like you if I didn’t have to work for a living.”
“Like me?” His voice was calm and nonjudgmental.
I tilted my head and decided to be honest. “You’re calm, responsible, and reassuring by nature except when you dare yourself to do something that makes you feel alive, like when you went into a cage for a great white shark to chew on for that crazy story you told me that night in Hawaii. And if I wasn’t always figuring out how to make money to survive, I’d… probably be more daring—maybe reckless—and uncaring and make horrible decisions.”
“I doubt that.”
“You don’t know me.” I let out a laugh. He had no idea, but I filled him in. “After my parents died, I wrecked the car, drank underage, refused to do homework for a year, and pretty much caused my sister a lot of problems.”
“That was grief.”
My therapist from when I was still in high school had said the same thing and that I needed to forgive myself. I smiled. “I had no limits. It was a bad look for me.”
